To return and to depart

As we turned into Morel Road and came in sight of the house I said a prayer of thanks.
Leo backed the car into the drive then helped Jamie out while I opened the front door.
There was no post in the porch and I could smell fresh bread.

"Joanna must have been
in," I said over my shoulder. We left Jessica asleep in her seat, the doors left
open.

There was fresh milk in the fridge and Joanna's home-made bread, still warm, was on
the kitchen table next to two weeks worth of post, polythene-wrapped magazines and a
stack of letters. On top was a pink envelope "to Paula". I put the kettle on and
opened the letter.

Leo came in behind me, dumping cases.

"The kettles boiling. Are you making tea?"

"Yes." I shook myself out of immobility and moved over to the
sink. "Leo, Joannas coming round for Jessica today."

"I thought wed agreed shed stay here till tomorrow, and
wed hand her over at Mass in the morning?"

"What, to Bermuda?"

"Yes. Its all happened really fast. The university want Tim to
start creating the new course immediately, and Joanna says shes so excited about the
cathedral project that she doesnt mind if they have to live in a beach hut for the
first few days."

"I dont suppose she means that!" said Leo.

"Not quite. Theyve been offered someones beach house
while they look for somewhere of their own. Sounds wonderful. Jessica wont remember
her French holiday when shes out on the beach in Bermuda!"

"Shell produce a wonderful design." Leo said.
"Shes really come into her own on this project!"

"Jessicas got the model of the first design as a dolls
hou..." I said, but I couldnt finish the sentence.

"It's been so lovely as a family, this holiday..." I pulled
myself together. "Ill check on Jess "

Jamie had seized on his box of toy cars with screeches of delight, and
was dragging it across the hall. I sidestepped the obstruction and went out to the car.
The hollow sound as I opened the door echoed in my sinuses. Jessica was still asleep in
her carseat, her head turned to one side, hair damp with sweat. One hand rested on the
ridiculous blue rabbit Id bought her in Brittany.

Leo came out of the house unwrapping a fat journal. "Look, your
papers in here! Youre famous!"

I blinked hard, and turned with an attempt at a smile. "Am I?"

He found the page: "Look, look! You should be proud, Paula."

"I am," I said.

"Youll be responsible for preventing thousands of late
miscarriages," Leo said. "Thats an amazing achievement."

"Its not just me, its the whole team."

"But you were the driving force and you know it."

I smiled.

"And if it hadnt been for Joannas experience," he
went on. "You might never have started it. Joy out of sadness. Its
wonderful."

"We havent done it yet!" I said, taking the journal from
him. "Weve only identified the receptor. Theres a lot more work before we
can produce a blocking agent."

"Jessicas waking up," Leo said.

I turned and looked in the car. Jessica stirred and dislodged the rabbit.
It fell onto the tarmac at my feet.

I picked it up. "Why dont you bring her in," I said to
Leo. "Id better ring Joanna and tell her were back. She'll want her
daughter."

Helen Whitehead

Part of this work was submitted as the Dissertation for
the MA in Writing